


Gratitude

by actingwithportals



Series: Thirty-One Day Writing Challenge [3]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Canon Era, Gen, day three of my thirty-one day writing challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 00:37:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13259934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actingwithportals/pseuds/actingwithportals
Summary: The newsies decide to show Mr. Kloppman their gratitude





	Gratitude

“Alright, Specs, Romeo, I want to see those windows shining, you hear me?”  
We hear ya, Jack!” the boys called, rushing off to clean the windows.

“Hey, Mush, Blink, Albert, Elmer, these floors ain’t gonna mop themselves!” Jack shouted, standing in the middle of the main room of the Lodging House.

“On it!” Blink called, getting the other three boys into gear.

“Finch, Tommy Boy, Henry, how’s that kitchen looking?” Jack asked, stepping towards the kitchen.

“Coming along nicely, Jack!” Henry called. “Dishes is mostly done and Finch is working on that leak as we speak!”

“Good,” Jack said. “I want this place to be running like a well-oiled machine, you hear me?”

“We hear ya!” the boys called in unison.

“Hey Jack, when’s Mr. Kloppman supposed to be getting back, anyways?” Race asked, slipping his cigar out of his mouth. “We still gotta clog in the third toilet upstairs that ain’t giving way and I don’t know how long that’s gonna take to fix.”

“He should be back this afternoon, around five maybe,” Jack said. “And get rid of that thing. We’se supposed to be making the place look nice, not filling it with smoke.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Jack,” Race said, sticking the cigar back between his teeth.

Jack sighed, shoving Race out of the way and heading upstairs. “Buttons, Jojo, Boots, how’s it looking up here?” he asked when he reached the upstairs.

“Ain’t looking good, Jack,” Boots said somberly. “This clog ain’t budging.”

“So, make it budge,” Jack told him. “Either we fix it, or we’se out of a toilet. No way we’se letting Mr. Kloppman yank his ass all the way up the stairs and getting down on his hands and knees to fix it. Keep trying.”

“Yes, Jack,” Boots said, going back to the stall to help the other boys.

“Hey Crutchie!” Jack called, heading back to the top of the stairs. “Crutchie!”

“I hear ya Jack, loud and clear!” Crutchie called, hopping over to the bottom of the stairs.

“How’s dinner looking?” Jack asked, making his way down to him.

“Swell Jack, just swell,” Crutchie said, all smiles. “Good call on inviting Davey and Les over to help with it; without them I don’t know where we’d be. I sure don’t know how to cook, I don’t know about you.”

“I’d probably burn water, to be honest,” Jack admitted. “Alright, well get back to it. It’s almost four, so we’se got one hour left until Mr. Kloppman arrives. You hear that, boys? One hour to make this place spotless!”

“You got it, Jack!” some of the boys called back.

The Lodging House was bustling with life. The newsies had made a point to all finish selling their papers as quickly as they could that day and getting back to the House for some much-needed attending. Mr. Kloppman was getting on in his years, and keeping up with several boys as well as a large home for them all was taking a toll on him. That day Mr. Kloppman went out to buy food for the House as well as a few toiletries; the small amount of essentials he could afford to give the boys. The newsies took advantage of this time with him away to get the place in order, a task Jack had been planning for some time now.

“Dishes is done!” Tommy Boy called out.

“Leak’s fixed too!” Finch cried.

“How about those windows?” Jack called.

“Sparkling like a diamond!” Romeo reported.

“And those floors?” Jack questioned.

“Good as new!” Mush informed him, putting away the last mop back into the closet.

“And Davey! How’s dinner looking!” Jack called, making his way towards the kitchen.

“Good enough to eat!” Davey replied. “Mr. Kloppman will be dining well tonight.”

“That’s what I want to hear,” Jack said, satisfied. “Alright, it’s almost five! Mr. Kloppman’s gonna be walking in through that door any minute now! Hey Buttons!”

“Yeah?” Buttons called from upstairs.

“How’s that clog?” Jack asked.

“All taken care of!” Buttons answered, a broad grin on his face as he came to stand at the top of the stairs.

“Alright, you boys know what to do,” Jack said. “Put away your rags and get that table set!”

“Yes, sir!” a few of the boys called, grabbing the plates and silverware out of the drawers and setting a place at the table for one.

“Hey Jack, he’s coming!” Crutchie called, looking out the window.

“Alright, get to your places boys!” Jack shouted.

All the boys poured into the main room, running down the stairs and exiting the kitchen, all coming to stand proudly in front of the main entrance. When Mr. Kloppman came in, grocery bags in hand, he stopped in his tracks, staring at the boys in surprise.

“What’s this?” he asked, looking around the room, confused.

“Surprise!” they all said in unison, holding up their hands proudly.

“We cleaned up the place!” Romeo said excitedly.

“And did all the dishes!” Henry added.

“And even cooked you a meal!” Les cried.

“And fixed the clog upstairs!” Jojo put in.

“We thought,” Jack began, shushing the boys behind him. “That you do a lot for us, Mr. Kloppman, and we don’t really do much for you. So, we figured it was about time that changed. We cleaned up the place, real nice and good, and fixed all the repairs you kept meaning to get around to but never could find the time for. And our boys Davey and Les here really know a thing or two about making good dinners, so we thought, why not?”

Mr. Kloppman stared at Jack, not uttering a word.

“We just wanted to show you our gratitude,” Crutchie added. “For everything you do for us.”

“Yeah, and for putting up with our shenanigans too,” Race said.

Mr. Kloppman stared at each boy in turn, still not saying anything. Jack held his breath, a slight fear enveloping him that maybe they had done something wrong. If that were the case, he’d take the blame. It was his idea, after all.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Mr. Kloppman smiled, relief washing over Jack.

“You boys sure are something, aren’t you?” Mr. Kloppman said, grinning down at them.

“We learned from the best,” Specs piped up.

Mr. Kloppman nodded. “You learned well,” he told them. “Thank you, boys.”

Jack grinned. They had all done well, and he couldn’t be prouder of his boys for coming together like this.

They really had learned from the best. And for that, they were grateful.


End file.
